


One Night

by 221bjohnlock



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, johnlock - Fandom, johnlock smut - Fandom
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Human Error, John Watson - Freeform, Johnlock - Freeform, Johnlock Smut, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Male Slash, Mentions Mary, Oral Sex, Porn, Post-His Last Vow, Sherlock Holmes - Freeform, SherlockxJohn, Smut, love angst, one night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 19:35:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3781840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221bjohnlock/pseuds/221bjohnlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John demands to know what Sherlock was about to say on the airstrip at the very end of series three. Sherlock finally confesses he loves John without any hope but John gives him a spark of hope, admitting he loved him too. John promises one night of smut with Sherlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Night

"Sherlock?" John said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He sniffed and avoiding Sherlock's questioning stare, looked towards the skull on the mantelpiece to the right of Sherlock. After saying a heartbreaking goodbye on the airstrip, they now found themselves back at Sherlock's flat facing a new threat together.

"What were you going to say to me? You know, before you took off in the plane. I was sure you were going to say something important but then you came up with that bollocks about Sherlock being a girl's name." John frowned and shook a finger at Sherlock. "And I'm still not naming my daughter after you!"

"What does it matter? I'm back now," Sherlock replied with a blank stare.

"Sherlock, I'm your best friend, you can tell me anything. I'd like to know what you were going to say," John insisted.

"Very well then," Sherlock said waving a casual hand. "Although I assure you its very boring and you won't be in the least bit interested in what I have to..."

"Sherlock!" John growled.

"I love you," Sherlock said so quickly that John was sure he misheard him.

"Sorry?" John said with an awkward smile. He took a step forward to better hear his friend.

"I love you. I've been meaning to tell you for quite sometime but I could never find the right words and then with Mary, there never seemed an appropriate time."

John gaped at Sherlock with opened mouthed shock. It seemed as if John was frozen in time, unable to move, breath or even blink. His eyes were on Sherlock but he wasn't seeing him for there was a storm brewing in his mind.

"You love...me?" John finally uttered slowly. His mind and body had somehow forgotten how to work. "You love me as a friend? A brother? A boyfriend?" John choked and coughed on the last word.

"A boyfriend, obviously. Do keep up, John."

John took a step back, shaking his head.

"Why...?" John cleared his throat. "Why did you not tell me this before?"

"Before what?" Sherlock replied blankly.

"Before everything, Sherlock!" John shouted, suddenly consumed with an anger that surprised him. He took a deep breath but it didn't do much good.

"Would it have made a difference?" Sherlock's voice was cool and collected for he knew the answer so there was really no heartbreak. His heart had already been broken or rather frozen. Sherlock had always kept his heart frozen but since he'd met John, John had slowly thawed his heart to the point where it had been glowing with warmth. Then Mary entered their lives and his heart slowly started to freeze. It was at the wedding reception that Sherlock's heart was once again turned to ice.

At the airstrip, he thought it might be easy to tell John how he felt. They were never going to see each other again and there was nothing to lose. But still he couldn't get the words out.  
Now he had said it without hope or agender. He wasn't expecting a positive reply.

"I dunno, maybe," John muttered sounding ever so sad.

Sherlock blinked at John in shock. John's eyes, so full of sadness seemed to mirror what Sherlock felt deep down and far away.

"If things had been different, if you hadn't died, if I hadn't...Sherlock, I thought you were dead. Can you imagine the pain I felt and then I met Mary but..." John's voice faded away. But what? What was he about to say?

Sherlock opened his mouth. Closed it without a sound with a puzzled look, then opened it again.

"John, what are you saying?" He asked slowly. "Are you trying to tell me that if I confessed my feelings towards you earlier then you may have in fact returned those feelings?"

John took a deep breath. He then released it looking anywhere but Sherlock. He sniffed and took another breath and looked Sherlock straight in the eyes.

"Yeah, yes. Before...Sherlock, before, you meant everything to me and I suppose, yes, I loved you." John gave an awkward cough.

"And now?" Sherlock asked. This time he had trouble sounding blank, a small tone of hope entered his voice.

"No," John replied hoarsely, shaking his head. "Sherlock, I have Mary. My wife Mary and my unborn daughter."

"John," Sherlock whispered, taking a step towards his best friend and completely taking up his personal space. "What if the Reichenbach fall never happened. What if you hadn't met Mary and you still lived here with me and nothing had changed?"

John's expression faltered. His heart beat picked up and the room fell away. There was only him and Sherlock. He couldn't bare the tension between them any longer.

"Dammit," he growled, reaching out to grip Sherlock's jacket and pull him towards him. His lips crushed against Sherlock's and he reached up to run his hands through Sherlock's dark curls and pull him down closer.

A sigh escaped Sherlock's lips causing hot desire to course through John's body. He took the opportunity to thrust his tongue forward and explore Sherlock's mouth, his tongue slipping over Sherlock's.

Sherlock tasted of tobacco and apple. His mouth warm, moist and soft. John was unable to stop a groan as he yearned for more of Sherlock. Of their own accord, his hands pushed back Sherlock's jacket, where it fell onto the floor. He then noticed his hands were shaking as he undid Sherlock's buttons on his shirt.

Sherlock, who had been taken completely by surprise by John's sudden passion had been stuck in confusion. His mind hadn't quite caught up with what was going on which was unusual and a little alarming for him. It was only when John had bared his smooth pale chest that he was able to fully comprehend what was happening.

With a smile, he kissed John back, feeling the kiss and adding a sense of urgency about it. In one smooth motion, John's coat was off and with steady hands, John's chest was also bared.

John broke their passionate kiss to trail kisses down Sherlock's throat. At the hollow of his throat he couldn't help but lick and bite at the soft skin. He trailed open mouthed kisses across Sherlock's chest and down to his stomach, nipping and biting just above his waist band.

Breathing heavily, John pressed his hand against Sherlock's rock hard erection. His breath hitched when he realised the length of it. Then with a groan he straightened, seeking out Sherlock's lips while his hand rubbed against Sherlock's length.

John couldn't help smiling when his lips touched the detective's. Sherlock was beginning to pant. John pressed his hand harder against Sherlock's erection, rubbing faster, allowing a moan to escape from Sherlock.

He started thrusting his hips and then with a growl, Sherlock reached for John's zip. John's arousal was hard in his hands and when he began moving his hand up and down his shaft, John let out a cry, steadying himself by gripping Sherlock's shoulder as his knees nearly gave way.

"I love you, John," Sherlock growled and then he bent, his mouth closing over John's swollen, heated, throbbing hardness.

"Ah," was the noise that escaped John. He was fully focused on Sherlock's hot, wet mouth now moving over and sucking his cock. He had both hands on Sherlock's shoulders now, not trusting his own balance.

"Sher...Sherlock," John whispered. "Oh god, I want you."

Right then and there, Sherlock was all he wanted and needed. He was consumed with need, desire and passion. He knelt on the floor, in front of Sherlock and claimed his lips once more. His hands shaking with desire, undid his zip to take Sherlock's long, pale perfect cock into his hands.

He'd only started moving his hand when Sherlock gripped hold of his wrist and pulled him around. Sherlock lent his beautiful lean body against John's strong tanned back. Using his finger and thumb, he pulled his chin back so Sherlock could kiss him from behind. His other hand explored his chest, his stomach and down again to stroke John's arousal.

His hand left his chin to then explore another exciting place down below. John heard Sherlock sucking on his fingers and then Sherlock touched a place that had John panting and gasping.

"Christ!" John hissed, his hand closing over Sherlock's where it was working his shaft. Then the pressure of Sherlock against him and easing in made John lose all sense. All he could do was feel as the consultiñg detective made love to him.

Sherlock's hard throbbing cock thrust into John in a fast rhythm that had him gasping and moaning. John's heart throbbed when he heard Sherlock panting and moaning behind him.

John could feel the tension building between the two of them, their bodies heated and sweating with excursion. They were both close to climaxing.

"John," Sherlock whispered breathlessly at the beginning of an oragasm. It was that one whispered word that sent John over the edge. With a cry of pure pleasure, he shot out hot wet stickiness into Sherlock's hand. Meanwhile, he felt Sherlock bury himself deep into him, coming in bursts and moaning in pleasure.

John winced when Sherlock slowly pulled out of him. They both rested with John on all fours and Sherlock kneeling behind while they caught their breath.

"Tea?" John asked once he could speak again. "I'll put the kettle on and I'll meet you in your room in ten minutes. We need to talk, Sherlock."

Sherlock searched John's face. What would come of them now? Yes, they had had sex but Sherlock still couldn't let his heart melt and hope.

When Sherlock left for his room, John, putting on his trousers,took a deep breath to clear his head. He'd just had the best sex he'd ever had, with someone he loved. Yes, he did love Sherlock but he had responsibilities now.

He had trouble pouring the kettle as his hand was shaking. He was full of emotions he could barely contain. If this had been before the fall, Sherlock would be all he would need.

He quickly downed his tea in the kitchen in a few short gulps.

"You're a bad man Doctor Watson," John uttered to himself.

He entered Sherlock's dark room and the familiar smell of Sherlock hit him. It smelt dark, seductive and mysterious. He had always found that smell comforting and yes, a little exciting. John could already feel the beginnings of another arousal.

He found Sherlock sat on his bed in just his black trousers. His glorious hard pale chest was the brightest thing in the room and all John wanted to do was touch it.

John cleared his throat and handed Sherlock the tea. Sherlock took it and drank.

"One night, Sherlock. That's all we can have," John told him with an authoritative tone much like he used in the army.

"I understand," Sherlock replied. "Quite right."

John leant forward and gently pressed his lips to Sherlock's. Sherlock sighed. At that one gentle contact, John's arousal was rock hard and desperate for Sherlock's touch.

With a primal growl, John wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck, pulling him close and deepening the kiss. John's hands slid up into Sherlock's silky curly hair and his tongue pushed into his mouth, stroking and teasing around Sherlock's own tongue.

John felt as if he were home, and for that one night, he was.  
John straddled Sherlock on the bed, pushing his groin into Sherlock's, who was just as aroused as he.

He moved his hips, grinding their groins together and they both moaned at the friction. They tore at each others trousers, quickly freeing their cocks once again.

John took hold of both their cocks, rubbing his hand up and down them and slowly increasing the rhythm. Panting, Sherlock helped, their hands joined, they pleasured each other together.

The sight of them together in such a way had them both gasping. John started kissing Sherlock roughly, he playfully nipped Sherlock's bottom lip and then pushed him back into the bed.

This time he wanted Sherlock. Sherlock let out a noise of protest. Sherlock always liked to be in control but John wanted to do it his way.

He leant his bare chest across the length of Sherlock's lean pale one. He buried his hands in Sherlock's thick hair, his mouth coming down rough and heated. He felt Sherlock's tongue thrust forwards, eager to be inside John in some way.  
John's hands trailed across Sherlock's jaw, down his throat to his chest, his mouth following behind with trails of open mouthed kisses.

John moved down further, from his stomach to his hips, noting with a smile how amazingly aroused Sherlock was.His cock hard and full, throbbing on his stomach.

John took hold of Sherlock's arousal, his tongue sliding over its swollen head. With a moan, Sherlock gripped hold of the sheets and thrust his hips up.

Slowly, John slipped Sherlock inside his mouth, taking the detective in deep. In a steady movement he created a delicious friction, sucking on Sherlock until he had him panting and gasping.

"John," Sherlock gasped, releasing one hand from the sheets to grasp John's hair.

With a fast and swift movement from years of military training, John caught Sherlock's hand and pinned in down above the detectives head.

John knew he'd caught Sherlock off guard and used the moment to his advantage. Parting Sherlock's legs, he positioned his own arousal at Sherlock's entrance.  
He took a moment to look at Sherlock underneath him, panting with need and desire, his eyes full of wanting for only John. John's chest swelled with a pain and pleasure that cut deeply through him.

Sherlock gave him a slight nod and then John plunged inside of him. They both moaned in pleasure. At the sudden friction, John almost came then but he held back, pausing while his throbbing shaft was surrounded by Sherlock's hot tightness.  
John kissed Sherlock, their tongues twining together and then he started to move.

John set a steady rhythm, thrusting into Sherlock a little deeper each time. It soon came to pass that John couldn't keep a steady head much longer. He was consumed by the pleasure of Sherlock and wanted more.

He gripped Sherlock's hips and started thrusting into him in short hard bursts getting faster and faster, their bodies slapping together with a loud smack.

"Sher...Sherlock!" John cried on the edge of orgasm. The world as John knew it exploded. He had never come so hard sending long wet hot streams deep inside of Sherlock. John wasn't entirely sure he muttered something that sounded like, "I love you."

A moment later, he felt Sherlock tighten around him and stiffen. Hot white streams jetted out of Sherlock, spilling out on his stomach and catching John's chest.

As John promised, the two spent the whole night together. They made love many times and when they weren't, they simply held each other, drifting in and out of sleep.

Far too soon, the sun crept through the curtains and morning dawned. John took a deep breath, peeled himself out of Sherlock's embracing arms and stepped from Sherlock's bed. He put on his trousers and made to leave.

"Must you go, John?" Sherlock asked, his voice rough from their lovemaking.

John swallowed and took a deep breath. A heavy weight fell in his stomach.

"One night, Sherlock," John replied, his voice giving a slight quiver. "I promised you one night. That's it and all it can ever be. I have...I have responsibilities, there's Mary and the baby. I've got to do what's right."

"But you do...love me?" Sherlock asked coolly.

John swallowed again, struggling to speak around the lump in his throat. He could see a vulnerability in Sherlock's eyes and hated himself for he was about to break his heart again, choose Mary again.

"Yes," he replied, his voice strained. He felt like he was about to break and fall into little pieces. He had to leave now, his heart was breaking. God only knew what Sherlock was feeling.

John liked to think he was a good man and always tried to do what was right. Yes, he loved Sherlock more than anything but he had a responsibility to Mary and the baby and it wasn't in his nature to turn away from that. So, he turned from the only man he would ever love and walked away. At that moment, something broke inside of John and Sherlock was the only person who'd be able to fix it. He could feel a raw pain in his heart.

”Human error," he heard Sherlock mutter before he closed the door.

John didn't leave straight away. Instead, he leant his back against the door and wept for what might have been. For that one night, he'd known true happiness.


End file.
